Time to Meet the Parents (Insert Dramatic Music)

“Bullshit.”

“Hálfdan…”

“Sorry, hun. But come on, this has got to be bullshit.”

‘Hmm. Deja vu,’ John thought, slowly sipping on a cup of tea. Talia and he had walked a short distance after exiting the forest, passing a few quaint houses that looked like they belonged in a New England colonial village. Well, they would have if it weren’t for the large amounts of greenery growing on the architecture and the magical animals walking around on the streets. John did not get long to look at the community as soon Talia was dragging him over to one of the homes with a grin on her face.

A short greeting and a quick summary of his story, and John now found himself sitting in what looked to be their living room, sipping tea out of a very fine china cup, while Talia’s parents tried to grill him for answers. Well, Talia’s father was grilling him. Her mother seemed to be trying to keep her husband’s questions under control.

Talia’s father cleared his throat, focusing John’s attention on him. He was… different than Taila and her mother, and not just in the obvious fact of being male. His skin was dark and tanned, as if he had been standing in front of the sun all his life to work on his perfect tan. His hair was black, rather shaggy and wild atop his head but came to a neat goatee at his chin. His arms were well built, and John had no doubt in his mind that if this man so chose, he could easily toss John out onto Yggdrasil and feed him to Rataka... Ratana… The squirrel thing. John would have guessed he wasn’t an elf, but his pointed ears, tall stature, nimble and graceful movements, and his overall body structure (aside from his strong arms) screamed elvish.

He cleared his throat again. “Mr… Newman, you say? Mr. Newman. It's not that I do not want to believe you. Frankly, I would be ecstatic to see this claim be true. I can recall my mother using weapons enchanted with Nordic runes when I was a child, and want to see them return. But your way of learning runes is just… Well, it’s impossible! It breaks the rules of runic magic!”

“Why?” John asked, genuinely interested to know. Surtr, Talia, Wentworth, and now Talia’s father all said that Nordic rune magic was impossible, and treated him like some sort of prodigy. He really wanted to know why.

Talia’s father gave a soft sigh, putting his cup down. “Runic magic originates from the gods, Mr. Newman. A rune taps into a god's power, who taps directly into the power of the universe. Think of it as… tongs when you are dealing with something very hot. Us mortals cannot handle the raw power of the universe, it would be too much for us. So the gods deal with the more chaotic and destructive parts, diluting the power into something usable for us. The downside to this is that gods have a lot of rules for runic magic. It’s a fair trade, since it taps into their power and into the power of the infinite cosmos. No rules on that kind of magic would make such power too accessible and could lead to the ruining of countless lives, if not the world.”

He took a small sip before continuing, “Normally, when casting runic magic, a rune mage must first understand what rune he is trying to cast. You can’t properly write if you do not understand what you are writing, after all. Secondly, an invocation. That’s the big part. It, essentially, calls down the power of the god, asks them permission to use the rune, stokes the gods ego for a moment or two, then clearly states the effect of the rune. That's important, as many runes have multiple usages. Finally, you properly write the rune.”

“How do you know so much about runic magic?”

“Well…” Talia’s father leaned back in his seat, a smug grin on his face. “When I first became a blacksmith, the local runesmith happened to partner up with me. I made blades with no equal, he would enchant them to make them more powerful. Eventually, after a few decades, he told me how it worked, but couldn’t teach me the runes. Said only his teacher had the ability to do that, and his teacher had long since passed on.” That thought seemed to jolt Talia’s father back on topic. He quickly sat up and leaned forward, pointing an accusatory finger at John. “Which is exactly why you cannot possibly know Norse rune magic! Runic mages had to either learn their magic directly from the gods, who would often scar the rune onto the flesh of those who they taught, or they would have to be taught by other runic mages! There are no other ways to learn, and even then it takes time and training to learn to properly cast a rune! When Erik died, he only knew about 8 runes, and he had been learning rune magic for a few centuries!”

“Hálfdan, please calm down,” Talia’s mother said softly.

Talia’s father, who John figured was named Hálfdan, sighed and took a couple deep breaths. “Sorry, hun. It’s just… this boy is lying to both us and our daughter. And you know how Erik and I were. This boy insults Erik’s memory with his lies!”

“But Dad, I tell you he healed me using a rune!”

“Yes, and according to your story, it was a stone he used. Runestones are easy to use, and do not a rune mage make. This boy is lying to you and to me and I will have none of it!”

“I’m not lying!” John yelled over Hálfdan’s rising voice.

“Really then?” He reached over to a side table, opening the drawer and pulling out a dagger, a piece of paper, and a charcoal pencil. “Prove it. Prove that you can cast runic magic, or else I shall take it into my own hands to deal with this liar and trespasser in my home.”

“HÁLFDAN LEIFSON, YOU WILL NOT KILL THIS BOY IN OUR HOME!”

“I will not have this human come in and lie to our daughter! I will not have our daughter become the next Arvida!”

John decided to tune out Talia’s mother and father, instead looking down at the paper and pencil before him. This would be easy, just do what he did in school.

ImPrEsS tHeM, nEwMaN. wRiTe ThE rUnE wItHoUt ThE pApEr. PrOvE yOu ArE a TrUe RuNiC mAgE.
-S****

‘... Good point. Go big or go home,’ John thought as he clicked away the pop up. If he had to prove his skills, why not go above and beyond the call of duty? After all, if someone wanted to know he was a true gamer, he wouldn’t impress them by playing tetris like a god. He would impress them by playing Dark Souls and never dying even once.

He pushed aside the paper and pencil and with a thought and a flick of his wrist, quickly cast the first rune he had learned. In a matter of moments, sitting above his hand, glowing with the bright light of Surtr, was the Norse rune Kenaz.

Talia gaped at him, before giving a sly smile and jabbing her father in the side. Hálfdan’s attention was taken away from talking with his wife, and he turned to look, before his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped at what lay before him. “Av Odins skägg jag trodde att jag aldrig skulle se dagen ... En trollkarl av runor...“ Talia’s mother turned as well, her eyes also going wide in surprise, having that followed by a smile forming. “I knew you were trustworthy.”

John smiled, crushing the rune in his hand. “Let’s try this again. My name is John Newman. I am known as the Gamer. I am a runic mage.”

It turns out that proving John wasn’t full of shit did wonders for getting into good graces with Talia’s family. After some redone introduction, he learned the names of Talia’s parents.

Hálfdan was much **** to John now, and seemed to be more in awe of the young mage sitting in front of him rather than disbelieving his, admittedly, far fetched tale. Talia’s mother, on the other hand, was just giving John a sly smile for reasons John could not even fathom.

Speaking of, he was finally introduced to her mom, whose name was Frida Bragadóttir. It was clear that was whom Talia most took after, as Talia and Frida were spitting images of each other. Both had long blonde hair, pale skin, and slender forms. The main difference between the two of them was that Talia had hazel eyes, whereas her mother had blue ones. In addition, her mother was… well… a MILF. She was clearly a MILF. Stacked, perfect skin, a gaze that could turn the strongest of men into a melted puddle. Yeah, all she needed was some sort of lewd-joke t-shirt and the look would be complete for chill at-home mom who happens to be hotter than Muspelheim. And who also happened to give a lot of her good genes to her daughter.

Speaking of, Talia was currently behind John, her arms on his shoulders as she leaned against him sitting on the couch. This made John hyper-aware of her breasts, currently pressing into the back of his head, and also hyper-aware of her smell, which seemed to be a mix of lilac and lemons. All these things were making it very hard for John to reconcile the fact that this girl, who had the body and mannerisms of a girl his age, was almost a third of the age of the United States.

‘Gods I don’t even wanna think how old her parents are. Also, brain, could we try to focus on something other than her breasts? And her legs? And the fact that she smells great? Please brain?’

Thankfully, John kept getting distracted from the beautiful female on his back by Hálfdan, who continued to grill John with questions. This time, however, rather than being full of intent to expose a liar, Hálfdan’s questions were more like a child excitedly learning about a new cool thing.

“So Gaia speaks to you? What is that like?”

“Well, she’s pretty snarky. But seems well intentioned and want to keep me alive.”

“What about this other god you talked about? You never mentioned him by name.”

John gulped, and felt like he was about to stammer out a poorly thought out lie when, thankfully, Talia stepped in. “Dad, I’m pretty sure John is getting tired answering your questions. He did just learn his magic today.”

“Oh, right right.” Hálfdan gave out a nervous chuckle, running a hand through his black hair. “Well, John Newman, runic mage, I welcome you to Alfheim and my home and offer you my hospitality. Do you accept?”

“...What?”

Talia whispered softly in John’s ear. “It’s a tradition of our people. If you are to be allowed to stay for extended periods of time in someone’s home, you offer hospitality. Just say you accept.”

John whispered a quick thanks to her. “I… Yes. I accept your offer of hospitality. Thank you.”

Hálfdan slowly rose and offered John a hand. When John took it, Hálfdan helped John to his feet before pulling him in for a quick hug. He then backed up, gesturing to his daughter who was still giving John a look that he could not quite decipher the meaning of. It looked like she was confused, but John did not know what she had to be confused about. Hálfdan then spoke up, snapping Talia out of her spaced out confusion. “Talia will show you to the spare room you can use if you plan on staying here. You should probably get some rest.”

Talia nodded, taking John’s hand in her own. “C’mon. I’ll show you around.” She gave John a very disarming smile. “Least I can do for my healer.” She then quickly dragged John away, leaving a chuckling Frida and a smiling Hálfdan.

“A Norse runic mage. It’s… It’s unbelievable.”

“You better believe it, hun. It would be a bit of a problem if you didn’t believe in the mage our daughter has a crush on.”